


darkest before the dawn

by bramgreenfeld



Category: Rise (TV 2018)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 09:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17342795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bramgreenfeld/pseuds/bramgreenfeld
Summary: Jeremy meets someone unexpected in the parking lot after the show.





	darkest before the dawn

**Author's Note:**

> to whomever sent this request to me on tumblr: i owe you my life  
> title from love by imagine dragons

At first, Jeremy had no idea who the man he ran into in the parking lot was. The moon was nothing but a silver slash in the pitch-black sky, and even that was nearly completely obscured by clouds. The only light was the dim streetlamps lining the front of the school and the headlights on the cars passing by.

“Sorry, sir,” Jeremy said, stumbling backwards. The man didn’t respond. Jeremy glanced up and found that he was looking straight into Simon Saunders’s eyes.

Not that the man was Simon Saunders. He was older, taller, his hair going gray and a curl of contempt flashing in his face. But his eyes - they were just like Simon’s. Dark. Cold. Withdrawn. There was only one person this could be. Only one person who had eyes like that.

“You’re Simon’s dad, right?” Jeremy asked before he could stop himself. He shouldn’t have said it - he knew he shouldn’t have. He should have just kept his head down, moved on, gone back into the building. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say. But there were words inside of him, waiting, pulsing, and he couldn’t keep them contained.

Mr. Saunders nodded. “And you’re the boy that my son was... _ with _ onstage.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jeremy responded as if it was one anyways. It seemed to make whatever was happening here much less complicated, less tangled. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said. “Jeremy.” He glanced over his shoulder. He could see the rest of the troupe with their families through the glass doors, the smiles on their faces clearly visible even from far away. But there was one face he didn’t see. “Why aren’t you inside celebrating with him?” he asked Mr. Saunders. “I’m sure he’d really love to see you.”

Mr. Saunders had been starting to turn away from Jeremy, but looked back at him at the sound of his voice. “He knows my opinion on this play,” he said. There was no emotion in his voice, no expression on his face. Jeremy wondered how Simon lived with it, having to grow up with a father like this. “He shouldn’t be expecting to see me after putting on that kind of performance.”

“What kind of performance?” Jeremy asked. He didn’t know why he even said it - he knew exactly what kind of answer he would get. “A performance that shows just how talented your son really is?”

There - finally, he saw something flicker in Mr. Saunders’s eyes. Something human, something real. But as soon as it was there it was gone, falling back behind his mask again. “Why are  _ you  _ out here, Jeremy?” he said. “Shouldn’t you be inside with your own family?”

Jeremy swallowed hard. “You never answered my question.”

Mr. Saunders ignored him. “What do your parents think about this show?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jeremy snapped. Mr. Saunders raised his eyebrows. Jeremy stepped back, unclenching his fists - he hadn’t even realized that he had gotten so angry. “What does matter is that your son thinks that you hate him, and you’re not doing  _ anything _ to change his mind!” He had seen Simon’s face when he realized that his father had left the auditorium, the swallowed-down fear, even hatred, clearly visible on his features. And the part that Simon would refuse to acknowledge, no matter how many times Jeremy asked him about it - the relief. The suppressed happiness that his father wouldn’t see him like this, smiling widely while he held hands with a boy in front of an auditorium packed with people. 

“I do  _ not _ hate him,” said Mr. Saunders. He was beginning to raise his voice, but Jeremy didn’t feel an inch of fear. “I love my son!” 

“Do you?” Jeremy asked. “Or do you just love the part of him that fits with who you _ want  _ him to be?”

The words seemed to ring out through the empty parking lot. Jeremy stared up at Mr. Saunders, met his ice-cold eyes and refused to back down. He didn’t look like Simon, Jeremy thought, didn’t look like him at all. Not the Simon that he had gotten to know, with the bright smile and the sheer talent and the repressed hope visible in every emotion, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Mr. Saunders looked at him for a moment more, and then turned away, striding off towards his car.

Jeremy wanted to scream after him. He wanted to demand answers, to make his facade crack. But he knew that there was no point. He would never hear what he wanted to hear.

_ I hate Robert Saunders _ , he realized.  _ I hate him with every fiber of my being. _

Jeremy looked over his shoulder back at the high school once more. Finally he could see Simon, his mother and sister next to him. As he watched, his mother reached out and drew him into a tight hug. He couldn’t see Simon’s face, but he could see him relax, could see the tension dissolve from his frame as he breathed for what Jeremy bet felt like the first time in months. Jeremy couldn’t help but smile. 

Hope was fragile - Jeremy knew that better than anyone. But it wasn’t too hard to keep hold of, not if you had people you loved around you, supporting you. And even with a father like Robert Saunders, it looked like Simon still had someone. Maybe one day Jeremy would be one of Simon’s people, and Simon would be one of Jeremy’s. But for now, Jeremy was content with just seeing Simon smile. 


End file.
